


Sweet Like Cinnamon (Like A Dream I'm Living In)

by lifeagain



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Brief mentions of mpreg, Kinda, M/M, Mates, Pack Dynamics, Scent Marking, Scenting, honestly im so shit at tags this is so truly amazing, ish?, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4205298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeagain/pseuds/lifeagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I explain the way Stiles smells to Derek and somehow manage to not actually use anything relating to the sense of smell.</p>
<p> <em>Like three pups in the kitchen having breakfast on a Sunday morning. Like Saturday date night’s only every other week. Like giving the kids a bubble bath and not caring that the floor is soaked with soap and bubbles. Like dinner with the parents.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Like Cinnamon (Like A Dream I'm Living In)

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title from Radio by Lana del Rey.

Derek’s favorite (and sometimes least favorite) thing about being a werewolf is his heightened sense of smell. He loves the smell of emotion (with the exception of a few bad emotions-- read: the sour smell of anxiety), he loves the mixing of smells--the smell of someone close mixing his smell with theirs, creating something new. Forming a them. He loves the smell of his old family home-- a bit like wood and his grandma’s cooking and a bit of laughter and a lot like belonging. He loves the smell of Beacon Hills-- like old books and trees with an underlining of pure _magic_. But the smell he loves more than anything is the smell of Stiles Stilinski.

Stiles smells earthy. Like the crisp smell of melting lava and forest fires. Like the soothing smell of ice from the polars. Like snow on Christmas day. Like the salty smell of the beach--wind in your hair, feet in the sand, sun pouring into your skin and rushing waves. He smells like rain after a long drought--refreshing and much needed. Like flowers blossoming big and bright. Like birds chirping at dawn.

Stiles smells like all seasons rolled into one. Like just mowed lawn and children running through a sprinkler on the first day of summer. Like firecrackers and hotdogs on the grill. Like children raking leaves into piles just to run and jump in them, spewing the leaves everywhere all over again. Like Thanksgiving day pies. Especially pumpkin and pecan. He smells like Christmas. Like a cold winter sitting by the fire, drinking cocoa and cuddling under the blankets. Like spring-- warm and welcoming the new.

Stiles smells like passion. Like fire in your belly. Like red hot fucking all night. Like couples-just-married-honey-moon-making love. Like seeing your lover for the first time in what seems like forever. Like dancing in a club all night, wandering hands and wet kisses. Like standing up for what you believe in.

Stiles smells like love. Like the smell of your favorite book. Like the smell of your favorite meal your grandma makes. Like looking into the eyes of someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. Like cooking dinner for family. Like holding hands. Like kissing. Like hugging. Like running your hands through your lovers hair when they’ve had a long day of work only because you know it never fails to make them relax. Like staying up all night comforting a friend after a loss--whether that be from a break up or a death. Like comfort. Like holy fucking shit I can’t wait until I can wake up and see your face every morning. Like I’d kiss you with your morning breath and all. Like holding a friend’s hair back when they’re too drunk and puking everywhere. Like taking pictures of your partner doing nothing at all just because you love the way their eyebrows furrow when they concentrate.

Stiles smells like happiness. Like yellow. Like the sun on your skin. Like laughter between two old friends seeing each other the first time in years. Like kissing the girl you’ve like for years for the first time. Like being the new person in school and having someone come up to you and ask if you want to have lunch with them. Like riding your bike and feeling the wind in your hair. Like being front row at your favorite band's concert. Like staying up all night joking with your friends. Like piggy back riding and last one to a certain point is a rotten egg. Like riding the ferris-wheel and rocking it back and forth because it never fails to make one of your friends scream and swear to never ride it ever again even though you know they will if you just ask. Like eating your favorite meal. Like eating after you haven’t all day. Like feeling the sun after it has been storming for three days. Like taking a five hour nap after work. Like walking into the house and seeing the love of your life. Like taking a bath after a long day. Like a movie night with your friends. Like the first sip of coffee in the morning.

Stiles smells like adventure. Like running through a new part of the woods. Like going out of the country for the first time. Like going somewhere different and eating new foods even though you know it will be bad for your stomach just because you want to feel the culture-- know what it’s like to live somewhere else. He smells like skydiving and zip-lining. Like hot air balloons and flying in a plane for the first time. Like walking around town at 3am just because you couldn’t sleep. Like riding a roller-coaster for the first time and picking the longest one with the most loops. And goes backwards. Like swimming in the ocean for the first time. Like going into a haunted house. Like doing that thing your mom told you not to do just so because the risk of getting caught is so exhilarating.

Stiles smells family. Like Derek. Like three pups in the kitchen having breakfast on a Sunday morning. Like Saturday date night’s only every other week. Like giving the kids a bubble bath and not caring that the floor is soaked with soap and bubbles. Like dinner with the parents. Like first dates to the fair. Like hand-me-down recipes. Like the house feels weird when it’s quiet. Like 6:30am cooking, feeling arms wrap around you. Like always feeling relaxed when they’re near. Like listening to your favorite song and thinking of them. Like ‘don’t tell dad I let you do this’. Like the dining room table always filled up just right. Like ‘you look sexy with bed head and a baby on your hip’. Like the kids always complain when I read the bedtime stories because I don’t do the voices right. Like the first time I realized I wanted to marry you was when we first spent the night together and I saw the way your eyes fluttered open. Like if anyone heard my thoughts about you they would never take me serious every again. Like lets have a baby. Like spend the rest of your life with me. Like _holy fuck spend the rest of your life with me._

Like mother earth.

Like summer.

Like autumn.

Like winter.

Like spring.

Like passion.

Like love.

Like joy.

Like adventure.

Like pack.

Like forever.

**Author's Note:**

> you can follow me on twitter if you like ?
> 
>  
> 
> [@hcivallag](http://twitter.com/hcivallag)


End file.
